Then they dressed her in a dirty dress of coarse serge and a cap, and took away her own clothes. “If it will keep you busy,” he said, with a faintly ironical smile. It seemed to her that it was her duty to get up and clamor to go home to her room, to protest against his advances as an insult. "Curse you! Where are the bailiffs? Rot you! have you lost your tongue? Devil seize you! you could bawl loud enough a moment ago!" "Silence, Blueskin!" interposed an authoritative voice, immediately behind the ruffian. Reaction set in and she leapt at him, beating at his chest with her fists. You're luck.
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